People think that they can tell when someone is gay. What do they think? That we give off some type of odour or something? I can see it now. "Shit, what the hell is that smell, man? Oh, it's gay. Let's go over there." What, do they think that they have gay-dar? "Oh, you're gay? I must have turned of my sensors, out of batteries I suppose." Well then better hurry off to radio shack, I heard their having a sale!
I am so sick of people in denial. "You're not gay. You're to nice to be gay." Yeah, you're right buddy, I'm wrong. What a silly little idea that was of mine. Me gay? No.
I still remember the look on my mother's face the day I told her. She got all pasty. I had to laugh, she looked like her world was over. I just gave her the most sincere look and said- "It's okay mom, in a few years no one will need sperm, there will be a substitute for it. Artificial maybe. That'll be better anyway- less work for the boys." This did not help her to cope with the situation.
My dad just sat, and stared ,you know. He looked hurt, like I did it deliberately. As if when I was a little girl, I said to myself " I wanna be a lesbian when I grow up." Yeah. That's how it went. I was bitter from age five, and , I wrote a mission statement for the rest of my life that was all about being gay, just to hurt my parents. It was entitled " How to make society resent me" and when I handed it to my kindergarden teacher, she put a happy face sticker on it and told me that it needed to be colored.
As if the world isn't already over populated. And with straight people, too. At least if the world was overpopulated by homosexuals, it would be stylish. There wouldn't be ugly paintings and wallpaper in hotel rooms, and schools wouldn't have those hideous curtains, and people would not wear clothes that had less personality than a bagel. Children would have barretts, and teenagers would not wear those shirts that say things like "Brat" and "Girly-Girl" on them. Oh yeah, and the Spice Girls- gone.
All I want is for people to understand. I am human. I don't hate my parents. It is not my choice to be gay. I am not rebelling against all that I have ever been told. Sure, I go to the ballet, but that doesn't mean that I am the image of all that is wrong with today's society is it? And when I go grocery shopping, I still use coupons. And if I had kids, I would car pool! And if I didn't think that your daughter was so damn sexy, I might go out with your son. So don't hate me, and don't look at me like I came from a hole. I didn't. I came from the same place you did. And please don't try to convince me that I am not gay. Because hey, if I'm not gay, then what's that smell?
Amber Wardell
Feb. 1998
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